Seven Deadly Sins
by Rose DiVerona
Summary: Each of our favorite NCIS characters possesses one of the Seven Deadly Sins... Rating for safety and freedom.
1. Envy

A/N: This will be a seven-part fic, as there are, of course, seven deadly sins. This chapter is Abby. Future chapters will feature, Tony, Ziva, McGee, Gibbs, Jenny, and Ducky--not necessarily in that order. The chapters will be shorter than those of a regular fanfic (because I'm working on "To Be" at the same time).

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.

* * *

**Envy**

It. Wasn't. Fair.

Abby slammed her half-empty Caf-Pow! on the metal lab table in irritation, black pigtails bouncing as she spun angrily to the computer and viciously attacked the keyboard, fingers skipping expertly over the keys as her eyes skimmed the monitor. She was tracking McGee's cellular, something she'd done so often in the past six months it had become almost as natural as breathing.

The red blip on her screen showed that her quarry was inside the building. Abby just managed to send her monitor into blackness before the lab doors slid open with a hiss. She had company.

"Abby?"

The Goth shut her eyes and squared her shoulders before turning to face her visitors. She forced a smile.

"McGee…Stephanie."

The pretty brunette next to McGee waved and smiled.

That stupid, _perfect _smile.

"I brought you another Caf-Pow!" Timmy offered, holding the drink out with a smile.

"How thoughtful," Abby said coolly. "I'm not finished with my other one, though. Put it in the fridge, if you please."

As McGee busied himself doing this, Stephanie kept smiling idiotically at Abby.

"Tim took me to that new Italian restaurant down the street for lunch," she said brightly. "It was wonderful. You should eat there sometime."

"I hate Italian," Abby said shortly.

Stephanie wilted somewhat. "Oh."

McGee gave Abby an odd look as he returned to his girlfriend's side. Besides the obvious fact that the forensic scientist loved pasta, her behavior was unusual.

"We just wanted to see how you were doing," he said softly.

Abby smiled tightly, inwardly aching at the hurt look in her friend's eyes.

"Well, thanks, but I'm very busy this afternoon…"

McGee frowned and glanced around the lab, devoid of any evidence for testing. Even the usual blaring music was missing.

"I can see that." He turned to Stephanie. "C'mon, Steph. Let's leave Abby alone."

Stephanie nodded brightly, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.

"Okay, sweetie. Bye, Abby! Nice to see you again."

"Later," Abby muttered. When they were gone, she slumped against the table and sniffled.

McGee was in love. _Her _McGee. No—Stephanie's McGee now.

For half a year, McGee had been dating Stephanie Bloom, a smart, pretty, and young attorney he'd met at one of his book signings. He didn't visit Abby in her lab nearly as often anymore, and that hurt a lot more than she'd ever admit. She'd known she had feelings for the special agent for a long time. But it was only now that he was unavailable she realized just how deeply these feelings went.

The worst part of it was that Stephanie was perfect. She was one of the nicest people Abby had ever met, and therefore it was almost impossible to dislike her. Even Tony and Ziva, notorious lawyer-haters, were charmed.

Abby ran a hand over her eyes, forbidding herself to cry even though her heart felt like it was breaking. She sighed and reached out for her Caf-Pow!, draining the rest in one long swig.

Turning back to her computer, she tapped the mouse and watched as McGee escorted Stephanie out.


	2. Wrath

A/N: I think this one is a little shorter than the last. Just the way it worked out--these will all be varied lengths. Oh, and in case you didn't know, the different chapters in here aren't connected. Each "sin story" stands on its own.

* * *

**Wrath**

Gibbs slammed his way into the interrogation room. The fury on his face was palpable, and if his smoldering eyes weren't enough to convince the suddenly worried suspect he was armed and dangerous, the way he grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him into the wall certainly was.

"You _lied _to me, Griffith!" he roared.

"W-w-what? I-I-I really-" Griffith sputtered and looked to Tony and Ziva, standing behind their boss, for help. They glared at him and did not move.

"You told me your brother was _dead_. Well, you know what? Up until an hour ago, he was _alive_!"

"A-a-alive?" the terrified man squeaked. "I-I-it _can't _be."

Gibbs eyes sparked. He flung the unfortunate criminal back into his chair and leaned forward until they were eye-to-eye.

"Oh, yes it can," he growled. "Because I've got an agent in the hospital right now with a bullet in his shoulder, and guess who put it there?"

The man's eyes flitted wildly from side-to-side, searching for a non-existent escape.

"I-I-I went to his _funeral_! H-he was _dead._"

"Are you _sure _about that?" Gibbs asked in a dangerous whisper. When he received no answer, he pulled away in disgust and slammed his way out of the room.

Tony and Ziva followed quickly, exchanging frightened glances behind their boss's back.

"Poor man," Tony dared to hiss. "Facing Gibbs when he's like this."

Ziva was less forgiving. "I see nothing poor about him. His brother shot McGee."

Tony didn't miss his partner's small smile of satisfaction (she had been the one to bring the man down in the end), but before he could respond, Gibbs spun to his agents, his face still a furious red.

"DiNozzo!" he barked.

"Yes, boss?" Tony said promptly, adopting his best 'we weren't talking about you,' expression.

"Check the alibi of _every single person_ who was within a two-block radius of the site at the time of the original murder."

Tony frowned. "We already-" Gibbs' expression made him shut his mouth immediately. "On it." He scurried toward his desk.

Gibbs turned to Ziva. "Go to the hospital, check on McGee."

"No need, Jethro." Ducky approached them. "I was just leaving to visit Timothy myself and provide my professional opinion. That is," he amended, recognizing Gibbs' murderous mood, "if you do not need me at the moment."

"Go," Gibbs told him sharply. "Ziva, re-examine evidence with Abby. I want to know _everything_. Understand?"

"Yes." She nodded curtly and backed away.

Gibbs began to turn and noticed that Ducky, Tony, and Ziva were all watching him fearfully, paused in their tracks.

"_What?_" he asked dangerously.

"Uh…what are _you _going to do, boss?" Tony inquired.

"Taking Griffith to the scene of the crime. Maybe it will jar his memory a little." The other three did not miss the slightly maniacal gleam in the man's eye and a collective shiver ran down their spines.

"Gibbs-" Ziva began. He cut her off.

"_What_ are you all waiting for? _Get to work_!"

They sprang into motion, stumbling over themselves in their haste to get away. No one wanted to incur the wrath of Gibbs.


	3. Gluttony

A/N: Sorry it took so horrendously long for an update. I have no excuse. At least each chapter is stand-alone, so I will never leave you with a cliff-hanger! :)

This one actually does have a bit of a time-line. It takes place soon after "Flesh and Blood," but pretend Ziva had been dating someone.

And...it's extremely short.

* * *

**Gluttony**

They hadn't had a movie night in far too long--since before Africa, before Rivkin, before Jenny's death and the fiasco with Jeanne Benoit.

So Ziva could hardly help the knot in her stomach, whether of excitement or some other emotion, as she shifted the container of fresh-baked cookies in her hand and knocked on Tony's door.

"It's open!" he called, and she went inside.

Whatever she'd been expecting, the sight that met her eyes was not it. She hadn't been to her partner's apartment in years, but she remembered it being _cleaner_.

Now...the floor was strewn with wrappers and takeout boxes, empty beer bottles and soda cans. Ziva's heart plummeted, until her eyes found a completely sober and grinning DiNozzo folded onto the couch.

"Your father's visit upset you," she observed.

"The cleaning lady quit," Tony replied unapologetically, reaching for a box on the coffee table. His eyes alighted on Ziva's package. "Are those _cookies_?"

In response, Ziva held her baked goods closer, out of her friend's reach.

"Do you ever stop eating?" she asked in poorly concealed disgust as her eyes roved the room again.

Tony grinned around a mouthful of cold pizza.

"Does it bother you?"

She rolled her eyes. "McGee does cardio. He has lost weight. Perhaps you should take a chapter out of his book."

"A _page_, Ziva. And I'm hurt. Most women like a man with a healthy appetite."

"Yours is not what I would call 'healthy,' Tony." Ziva peered into a particularly putrid paper carton and wrinkled her nose.

Tony watched her, suddenly frowning.

"How's...um...Peter?"

Ziva had begun nudging trash into a pile with her shoe and did not look up.

"We are no longer viewing each other," she said simply. "He was not what I am looking for."

Tony's eyes brightened. "Oh. Well, in that case...wanna go get some dinner?"

She spun, her eyes disbelieving.

"How can you _possibly _still be hungry?"


	4. Pride

A/N: Again, kind of a while between updates...but I'm back on track with this story and hope to finish it before my Spring Break (which starts the 20th). I already have another chapter after this one finished, and a third started.

Time-line is Season 5, somewhere between "Bury Your Dead" and "Internal Affairs."

* * *

**Pride**

Cynthia stood as Gibbs stalked into the Director's reception area, continuing his charge toward Jenny's personal office.

"Agent Gibbs, Director Shepard has a meeting-"

He ignored her, opening the door and stepping inside.

Jenny, who was standing at her desk, smiled tolerantly at the intrusion.

"It's all right, Cynthia," she called, anticipating her secretary's apology. To Gibbs: "Can I help you, Jethro?"

Gibbs shut the door. "We need to talk."

Jenny sat down. "Sounds serious." She was joking, but Gibbs' glare remained as he leaned his palms against the desk and looked his former partner in the eye.

"What the hell is the matter with you?"

Her eyebrows rose. "I beg your pardon?"

"La Grenouille," Gibbs growled, "for starters."

"What about him?"

"'What about him' is that you _almost _got one of my agents killed! You kept the entire operation between yourself and DiNozzo. Do you know how irresponsible that was?"

Jenny straightened in her seat, her eyes going cold. "Wait just a minute. I'm not your probie anymore, Jethro. You can't lecture me on how to do my job. And you're making a very fair accusation considering _you're _the one with the rule about secrets."

"Secrets, yes. But your _infatuation _with La Grenouille was no secret from anyone."

Jenny's eyes flashed, but she recited calmly, "It's better to seek forgiveness than ask-"

Gibbs groaned and stepped away from the desk.

"Don't quote my own rules at me, Jen. Do you think you're invincible? Nothing can hurt you? Or are just _that _proud? It's acceptable to ask for help every once in a while."

"I don't need help. Thanks for offering." Jenny's tone hardened pointedly as she stood.

"You really _are _that sure of yourself," Gibbs said, somewhat incredulously.

"_Out_, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs turned obediently to the door, glancing back once. "I'm disappointed, Director. I just hope that arrogance doesn't get you killed someday."

The door swung shut behind him.


	5. Sloth

A/N: I was feeling guilty, so I decided a second update today was not a bad idea. I already have the next chapter written, anyways. Likely will be updated tomorrow, and the final chapter soon after.

The only time-line for this one is that it's after "Dog Tags."

* * *

**Sloth**

The sun was high in the sky when McGee finally woke up. It was Saturday, and he'd stayed up late the previous night on his typewriter. He groaned and rolled over…

…and was met with the expectant face of a very anxious German Shepherd.

"Jethro," he moaned, giving the dog a half-hearted shove. "_Off_. You're not allowed on the bed."

Jethro whined and licked his master's ear.

"Gah!" McGee buried his face in his pillow. "Go away…"

The mattress rose several inches as the dog returned to the floor, and Tim sighed in contentment. Seconds later, he jumped as a cold nose brushed up against his hand.

"Not now!" With great difficulty, he pulled himself into a sitting position and blinked blearily.

Jethro barked once and sat on his haunches, panting. McGee rubbed his eyes and blinked at the clock, surprised to discover it was almost three in the afternoon.

"How'd _that _happen?" he wondered aloud.

Jethro pawed at his knee. Tim sighed and fell back on the pillow. He did _not _feel like getting up.

The phone rang, and he fumbled for the object on his nightstand before realizing it was by his computer. In the living room.

Grumbling, he managed to stand and stumble into the next room, extricating his cell phone from a mess of papers. Jethro followed eagerly.

"'lo?"

"_Timmy!_" Abby began cheerfully. "_Ready for the concert tonight?_"

Concert. Brain Matter.

Oh _no._

"Uh, Abby, I don't know if I'll be able to-"

"_You just woke up, didn't you?_" she accused. "_No, you don't have to answer, you sound worse than Tony did. You men are pa-the-tic. Lazy. I've been up for hours, and Ziva—well, you know Ziva._"

McGee yawned, collapsing onto his couch. "Abby…"

"_I'm not accepting excuses, McGee. You are going, and that's that. I'll pick you up at eight." _She paused._ "And don't forget to take Jethro for a walk. I can practically sense his impatience. Bye!_"

McGee sighed. Jethro whined again, and his owner glared at him, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, shut up."


	6. Greed

A/N: As promised, the sixth chapter. I also have the last written and will likely put it up tomorrow.

No particular time-line for this one, but I envision it circa-Season 7.

* * *

**Greed**

Ducky was _not _happy with the way things were turning out.

"I _want _that body, Jethro," he insisted.

Behind him, Palmer coughed away a laugh, and Gibbs turned to the assistant.

"Something funny, Jimmy?"

The young man smiled. "Well, it's just that he said..." He sobered at the icy stare he was receiving. "...never mind. I'll just--go." And he practically sprinted out of Autopsy.

"This case belongs to NCIS, does it not?" Dr. Mallard pressed, seeming not to have noticed his protégé's quick exit.

"Joint investigation, Duck."

"Well, that may be, but public soil and the body of a Marine splits the case quite obviously, in my opinion!"

"No need to convince me."

"How am I supposed to do my job if Metro will not give me the means to do so?"

Gibbs half-smiled. "That's what I came down here to tell you."

As he spoke, the doors hissed open and a gurney laden with a body bag was pushed inside. Two Metro personnel and McGee followed it in.

"Here they are, boss," Tim announced unnecessarily.

Gibbs nodded at his junior agent, and McGee left.

"She's all yours, Dr. Mallard," one of the men said, signing a clipboard and passing it over.

Ducky's face lit up. "Jethro!"

Gibbs shrugged, smirking. "I have a way with people."

"You're a greedy man, doctor," the second man joked lightly as he and his companion turned to leave.

"You have no idea," Ducky murmured, beginning to unzip the body bag. "Oh--Jethro?" Gibbs turned in the doorway. "Please send Mr. Palmer back. Tell him I got what I wanted."

The two friends shared a smile.


	7. Lust

A/N: The final chapter. I think it's pretty funny that the first three chapters of this story were spread out over five months...and the last four all came in three days. Guess I got a rush of inspiration! Thank you to my muse, and to everyone who read and reviewed this!

Time-line: Nothing specific, I see it around Season 7.

Note: Sort of established-TIVA (but maybe nothing more than building off the assumption that something happened in Paris), and maybe slightly OOC Ziva.

* * *

**Lust**

She wanted him.

Ziva watched as Tony made his way to his desk. It was raining outside, and his hair was plastered to his forehead. He shook his head back and forth and droplets flew.

"Tony, you are not a dog," Ziva said disapprovingly, smiling despite herself.

He gave her a roguish grin and peeled off his NCIS jacket; stuck his cap on backwards and sidled over. Rolling up the sleeves of his long-sleeved T-shirt, he leaned up in her face--and growled.

It was all Ziva could do to stop herself from breaking into a peal of very unprofessional giggles, and her face turned bright red at this embarassing realization. Gibbs or McGee could return at any moment, and _they _couldn't be caught flirting like this.

But she _wanted _him.

Curse the people who decided that crime couldn't rest on a Saturday.

"Going to the head," Tony announced suddenly, whipping off his hat and plunking it on his partner's head.

Ziva waited a proud total of fifteen seconds before following.

He was waiting for her; she locked the door and turned into his arms.

Her lips met his eagerly, and she shoved him back against the wall. He responded willingly and she pushed for more, hands creeping lower to his waist and the zipper of his jeans.

Someone tried the handle on the door, and Tony froze up, seizing Ziva's groping hands.

"What?" she asked breathlessly, annoyed at the interruption.

"I know you two are in there," McGee's voice said sternly. "You'd better get _out _before Gibbs catches you."

Ziva sighed, disappointed.

Tony leaned forward and whispered lustily in her ear: "Tonight."

She followed him out, breathing heavily, heart beating fast.

Tonight.


End file.
